


Out Amongst The Wreckage

by NovemberBlue (Cherrypie62666)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Except it's under the sea so there is no fire, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Haggar is Ursula, Laugh with me, M/M, Merman Shiro, Prince Lance - Freeform, Reverse Little Mermaid AU, Slow Burn, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why Did I Write This?, klance, mermaid Pidge, mermaid au, merman Keith, merman hunk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-03-09 16:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherrypie62666/pseuds/NovemberBlue
Summary: “You were what,” Coran asked skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest.  It was hard to tell with his giant orange mustache blocking the majority of them, but Lance was pretty sure his lips were pressing themselves into a thin line.“Saved by a merperson,” he repeated coolly, glancing at the older man from over the top of the physician’s head.  Stinging salves were rubbed all over his half-naked body, making him grimace from time to time as they covered and cleaned his many scratches and cuts.  “Merman?  He was male.”“But they’re…”“Legends?  Myths,” Lance finished for the other, quirking his lips slightly despite the pain.  “Yes, I am well aware of the stories told by sailors and fishermen.”“Brutes, more like,” Coran corrected with a frown, moving his arms instead behind his back.  “And you’re positive it wasn’t just a hallucination brought on by nearly dying out at sea?  You’ve yet to be thoroughly cleared from having a concussion.”





	1. The Price Of Your Life

The frigid water hit him like a sharp punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs as he slipped down into the tumultuous sea, sinking further and further beneath the undertow.  Frantic thoughts swelled in his mind, a roaring cacophony of utter discord.  The urge to fight against the current sat like an itch beneath his skin, but the water felt like he was ensnared in molasses thanks to his freshly shocked system. 

He couldn’t move.  Couldn’t breathe.  Couldn’t do more than sink down like a leaden weight into the oppressive blackness, watching as the glow above shrank with each passing second.

Where once there was heat and panic, choking smoke and the blinding light of flames reaching up to kiss the stormy sky, there was now only bitter cold.  It shot through his bones like thousands of tiny needles, fracturing and splintering and tearing him apart.  Nothing had ever hurt more in his whole life, and as the flurry of bubbles escaped past his lips, he knew with a sobering clarity that nothing again ever would.

_Sleep now, my Prince._

As his eyes finally closed, succumbed as he was to his abysmal and untimely demise, the thing he felt most was calm.

 ***

_The wind wailed as it ripped across the rain-soaked wooden hull, men running about in a chaotic blur as they tried desperately to pull back in the sails.  The ship creaked and groaned as another wave smashed against its side, icy water spilling up onto the deck and drenching their already sopping clothing further._

_“Sire, I think you should get inside.  It isn’t safe for you out here right now.”_

_Lance stared back hard into pleading blue eyes, head giving a firm shake no.  Bits of shaggy hair plastered themselves to his burning forehead, dripping salty droplets down onto his lashes.   “I won’t let my men put their lives on the line while I sit around and do nothing.  If they can withstand it, so can I.”_

_“But your highness,” Coran begged with shaky voice, the usually composed older man cracking beneath the insurmountable pressure.  Reaching a hand out, he placed it firmly down on the younger man’s shoulder, gripping with all his might.  “It is my duty to advise you.  Please, listen to me.  For once in your life.”_

_“Sorry, Coran,” Lance replied with an easy smile.  Shrugging free of the weighty sensation, he turned back out to the chaos below.  “I’m not about to change now.  If the ship goes down, we’re all screwed.  The sea has no bias for who it claims.  All men die equally.”_

_A flash of stunning white lit up the sky._

_Thunder followed shortly thereafter, booming above their heads like a deafening screech and shaking the wood beneath their feet.  Splinters of the mast fell down all around them, charred and blackened, steaming in the chilly evening air.  It wasn’t long before the hiss of crackling flames drew their attention up toward the sails, not even the pelting sheets of unforgiving rain a match for the hungry consumption of the cloth._

_It spread, down the ropes and across the beams like a storm of red.  Black smoke billowed from the wreckage, swirling through the wind and obscuring their visibility with ash.  Nobody moved, jaws slack and eyes blown wide, too stunned by the sight to do much more than gape as the ship was steadily swallowed up whole._

_“Abandon ship!  All men to the lifeboats,” Lance called out, voice like a beacon in the dark night._

_The crew snapped instantly to attention, fighting against the heat and smoke to save the smaller boats before they, too, could be rendered useless._

_“Sire, you should get on the first boat,” Coran murmured from somewhere beside him, steering him toward the only area still free of flames.  “I know you care for your men, but everyone here would agree that your life is far more important than the entirety of us comb-“_

_Before he could finish his sentence, Lance sidestepped the older man and gently shoved him into the vessel in his place.  As the boat was lowered down into the water, their eyes locked, a warm smile pulling at his lips.  “I’ll be on the last lifeboat, once I’ve assured the safety of everyone else.  Don’t worry about me, Coran.  Allura already does enough of that to last me ten lifetimes.”_

_“Your sister is going to kill you if you don’t come back alive,” he warned, blue eyes wary and hollow.  Lance did little more than nod his head in confirmation, expression becoming deadly serious.  The boat rowed out into the churning sea, bobbing violently on the waves like a small leaf trapped in a storm drain._

_Turning his back, he gazed out at the fires that had spread across the deck, wind howling angrily in his ears.  The flames twisted and spun, brushing against the ground and crawling their way down into the passages below._

They’re going to reach the gunpowder barrels before long _, he realized with a grimace, rushing forward to assist the remaining crew._ There's minutes left until it does.  We need to hurry.

_Most of the lifeboats were spared the flame’s wrath, the remainder of them more than enough to easily hold twice as many of his crew.  He helped where able, fighting off further destruction while making sure every boat that could be saved, was.  The dangers weren’t over yet, far from it with such a raging storm.  Any number of them could capsize.  The more there were, the greater chances of one of them making it through._

_Panic arose as the ship swayed hard with a crashing wave, men clutching onto the lifeboat they sat in with white-knuckled grips.  Heat flared at his back as wood burned all around him, smoke slipping through his airways as the wind fanned the flames all the harder._

_Pulling the heavy, wet jacket from his back, he smothered the smallest of the fires trying to eat away the ropes holding the crew above the water, saving the men aboard from plummeting into the darkening sea._

_“What about you, milord,” a young boy asked as he helped him regain his footing and sit down, small hands shaking from terrible fear.  He couldn’t have been older than thirteen, and it pained Lance to think he might not make it fully into adulthood if things took a turn for the worse._

_Cracking a wry smile, he lowered the boat steadily down onto the ocean.  “I’ll be on the very next one.  Someone has to get you guys down from here.  You just focus on getting out of this storm.  Go back to your mother, safe and sound.”_

_The sky was dark and streaked with ash.  No one but him stood upon the burning deck, all of the men tossed over to the hands of fate.  Pushing the last of the lifeboats out above the bubbling sea, he dove into the safety of the tiny vessel, hitting the wood with a hard smack._

_A horrible sound rocked the ship once more, white-hot fumes exploding from the depths below.  Heat and smoke pummeled him from all sides, choking and blinding and burning his skin.  More came, one after another, the force from it all decimating whatever remained of the fiery mass he once called The Angel of the Dawn._

_The next thing Lance knew, he was weightless._

* * *

 

Blue eyes opened slowly as the world swam back into view.  The sun had risen, orange and pink streaking across the cloudless sky as gulls cawed softly in the distance.  Beneath his heavy limbs, cold sand clung to his tattered clothes, still soaked through and pungent with the scent of salt.

It hurt to move, violent shivers wracking his body as gooseflesh prickled his chilled skin.  Somehow, he’d made it out alive.  That was what mattered most.  How he’d gotten there, that was surely a happy twist of fate.

Movement caught his attention, a flash of inky black and blinding white.  Deeply violet eyes peered into his own worriedly, a gentle hand brushing the longer strands of hair away from his face.  When it pulled back, he whimpered softly, chasing the sensation weakly despite the terrible ache it caused in his head.

“Who are you,” he managed to croak out, voice hoarse and thick and small.  “Where am I?”

The beautiful stranger quirked his lips, plush and pink against his porcelain skin.  “You’re safe,” he replied.  “I took you back to your kingdom.”

“How?”

A gentle laugh tickled his ears, more enchanting than the melody of a beautiful song.  “I think you’ll be all right if I leave you here.  Your men all made it back alive, thanks to your bravery.”

Pulling his body slightly upright, he winced as a horrible pain shot through his abdomen.  Waves crashed against large boulders all around them, foamy spray twinkling in the early light as it trickled back down as mist. 

“I don’t get-“  Lance began, then stopped, his words dying abruptly in his throat as he took in the rest of the gorgeous man before him.

Scales of glittering fire rose up his spine as he laid in the surf on his stomach, a dorsal fin protruding from the place on the small of his back.  On the sides of his broad chest, some form of gills split the milky skin where his ribcage was sat, painted in shades of orange, yellow, and salmon.  The whole of his fiery tail reached out toward the ocean, milky white and aquamarine tinged waves making it shine like a garnet in the golden sunlight.

“You.  You’re.  What?”

Lapping at the shore lazily with his enormous tail, he curled a webbed hand beneath his chin and smirked.  “Eloquent.  You act as if you’ve never met any merfolk before.”

Lance swallowed down his surprise, nodding his head stiffly.  “Indeed.  I also thought the legends said you’d drown a man as soon as you’d save one.”

“Superstitions.  Mostly to keep our people safe from your deadly curiosity.”  Pushing himself up onto where his knees should have been, he stared down at Lance with hooded eyes.  “I see that you are well enough now to be left here, so I’ll take my leave.  Be careful next time.  You would be dead now were it not for your bravery and my kindness.”

“Wait,” he mumbled feebly, reaching out a hand and stopping the creature before he could go.

“For?”

Dragging his gaze down the man’s intriguing form, he drank in the sight before himself as the sun broke over the horizon.  Wisps of ink curled around his throat and face, the hints of crimson spines poking through his hair on the cuffs of his ears.  The scales from his tail ran delicately up both sides of his milky stomach, reaching up into sharp points that sat a little higher than his navel.  Even the sides of his arms boasted their own red fins of fire, with a smattering of salmon colored scales dusting along his forearms up to his neck.

Quirking an eyebrow, he seemed unamused with being gawked at so thoroughly.  “Was there something you needed, or are you just going to stare all day?”

Licking the salt from his lips, Lance cracked a small smile.  “At least tell me your name before you go.  I mean, I’d like to know who it was that saved my life.”  After a beat of palpable silence, he added a quiet and imploring ‘please’ into the mix.

“Whatever for, it’s not as if we’ll meet again,” the merman replied in a sultry tone, propelling himself out into the ocean with a great push from his tail.  Floating out amidst the sparkling golden waters, he looked almost human save for the beautiful red spines now visible along both ears.  With a dazzling smile, he jumped into an oncoming wave and disappeared.

Lance stared out at the sea for some time after, watching as the sky turned from shades of fire to an endless azure.  Knees curled up against his chest, he ignored the aches in his tired and frozen body, gazing at the curling waves in the hope of catching one final glance of brilliant red.

Voices sounded in the distance, the bark of hunting dogs no doubt zeroing in on his scent.  Even as they rushed up to pull him from the sand, warm hands running over his crusty clothes and bruised skin, his eyes still locked out onto the green waters, desperate for something more.

* * *

 

“You were what,” Coran asked skeptically, crossing his arms over his chest.  It was hard to tell with his giant orange mustache blocking the majority of them, but Lance was pretty sure his lips were pressing themselves into a thin line.

“Saved by a merperson,” he repeated coolly, glancing at the older man from over the top of the physician’s head.  Stinging salves were rubbed all over his half-naked body, making him grimace from time to time as they covered and cleaned his many scratches and cuts.  “Merman?  He was male.”

“But they’re…”

“Legends?  Myths,” Lance finished for the other, quirking his lips slightly despite the pain.  “Yes, I am well aware of the stories told by sailors and fishermen.”

“Brutes, more like,” Coran corrected with a frown, moving his arms instead behind his back.  “And you’re positive it wasn’t just a hallucination brought on by nearly dying out at sea?  You’ve yet to be thoroughly cleared from having a concussion.”

“I know what I saw, Coran,” he sighed.  Shooing the doctor away from his person, he rose from the examination table and grabbed his thick, blue robe to cover his cold skin.  “And it wasn’t just some dream or hallucination.  There’s no chance my dreams would be so cruel as to have him leave without so much as a name to remember him by.  Besides, how else do you explain my getting back to shore that far out to sea?”

“The gods work in mysterious ways, sire.  The sea could have carried you here itself.  It could have been that-“

Lance cut him off with a scowl.  “How many men do you know that wash up ashore after a wreck?”  When the older man did nothing but frown deeper in response, he grinned.  “Exactly my point.  Is it so hard to believe that not all merfolk are evil monsters who sink men’s ships for entertainment?”

Before Coran could retort, a light knock sounded at the door, drawing their attention to the beautiful woman standing in the entrance.  Long silvery hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, offsetting her deep caramel skin and piercingly sapphire eyes.  A delicate silver crown sat atop her head, hands folded up against her bosom as she smiled at the two of them softly.

“Am I interrupting?  I’d wish to see my brother after such a terrible fright,” she said in a crisp and elegant voice, stepping into the room with a swish of her floor-length lavender dress.

Coran placed his arm over his chest, folding at the waist in a deep bow.  “Apologies, your Highness.  Prince Lance was just finishing up his examination to ensure his good health.”

“And what of his diagnosis,” she asked with an amused smile, tilting her head playfully to the side.

The older gentleman stammered for a moment, looking both worried and reluctant to answer.  “Er.  Well, his body seems to be unharmed.”  A gentle flush painted his cheeks as he rubbed a sheepish hand over the back of his neck.  “His mind…”

“I’m fine, Allura,” Lance insisted with a roll of his eyes.  “Coran here seems to be of the opinion I’m mentally unsound, despite my protests to assure him I’m quite sane.”

“So I heard.  Merfolk.  Quite fascinating.  You’ll have to tell me all the details at a later time.”  Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, crinkling in the corners as she regarded the two of them with a smirk.  Spinning on her heels, she sauntered back toward the door, lavender dress swishing around her bare feet.  “Well, whenever you’re ready, dear brother, I’ll see you at your welcoming home feast.  Try not to dawdle, you know how restless the servants become.”

“I can’t quite tell if she’s making fun of you, or me, or both of us,” Lance mumbled when his sister was fully gone from sight.

Coran sidled up beside him, clapping his shoulder softly as he gave a solemn nod of agreeance.  “I think it’s safe to assume it’s both, my Prince.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I most certainly did not write this over updating my other fics...
> 
> So, I'm sure you get the gist from this chapter.  
> I'm still working everything out in my brain, but it will indeed be a reverse mermaid AU where the prince becomes a merperson for the hot merman. Because, I believe in equality.
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr - Cherrypie62666
> 
> Or just talk to me here, I love to chat.


	2. A Benevolent Witch

Lance stared out across the horizon from the high balcony, watching as the sky bled in various hues of purples and reds in the quiet twilight.  Gulls cawed.  The wind blew softly.  Glittering waves crested the shoreline far off in the distance, an endless expanse of golden water kissing the pale beach over and again.  It was beautiful to behold, but it made him feel restless.

It had nearly been a week since his ship went down somewhere out in that vast sea, and though there were no casualties amongst the other losses they’d suffered, he couldn’t help but wonder faintly if his heart wasn’t also lying down there in the murky depths with the smattering of debris.  It would explain the odd behavior and gnawing urge to sink himself back into that unforgiving tomb of ice and wait to see where it brought him.

For too many days since his full recovery, he’d walked along that same length of golden sand, eyes cast out toward the green waters in the hopes of… something more.  What it was, he wasn’t sure, but it left a hole inside of him far too deep to be filled with anything but a flash of red amidst those churning waters, a stroke of ink and violet to quell the anxiety he couldn’t escape. 

Part of him was curious to know more about the creatures of legend he’d only recently started to believe in.  Part of him was simply desperate to gaze upon that pale face one last time, for silly reasons he didn’t want to guess.

“Still obsessing over it?  You know the chances of merfolk coming this close to a human town is slim to none.  Emphasis on the slim, dear brother.”

Turning his back on the depressing sight, his lips quirked upward with the ghost of a smile.  “I know.  But that doesn’t mean I can’t still hope,” he murmured, leaning back against the railing with a forlorn sigh.  A gentle breeze blew through his cinnamon-streaked hair, ruffling it softly as he noted the worn down look on his sister’s face.

Allura hummed in acknowledgment, stepping out onto the balcony and taking the spot directly by his side.  Folding her arms atop the polished white marble banister, she gazed out quietly at the endless sea.  A wistful flicker shone in her azure eyes, and he was almost certain she wasn’t seeing the same emptiness he did out there.

“I understand entirely.  I think I was seven the first time Papa took me out on his boat and I caught a glimpse of amethyst scales rippling down amidst the grey waters.  It was far too large to be a fish, and no sea creature I know of shines in such a lovely color.”

“You think it was a merperson,” Lance stated, guessing at where the conversation was headed.  His sister nodded in response but didn’t elaborate further.  Pursing his lips, he pushed on.  “And I’m going to take another guess and say when you told Papa and his crew, they didn’t believe your story, either?” 

“They said they did.  No one truly believed me, of course, only pretended to play along like it was a child’s made-up game.  But I knew what I’d seen was real.”  Glancing sidelong at his face, she smiled wryly.  “I’ve always hoped to see one again someday, and yet here I am, more confined to this castle now than I was back then when Mother and Father were still alive.  Funny how the fates never give you the things you desire most.”

“You still might, you never know what the future holds,” he replied in a quiet voice, waiting patiently for the moral of the story he knew was soon to follow.  Allura didn’t divulge things about her hard past without a deeper purpose.

Chuckling, she shook her head, tucking a strand of long pale hair behind her ear.  “I don’t think so, Lance.  I’ve grown too old to waste my time believing in such childish fantasies.  Yes, I’ve no doubt in my mind that things of this nature exist.  But I don’t waste my emotions on ideas that aren’t realistic.  I have an entire kingdom whose hopes now rest on my shoulders.”

Lance frowned at that, disliking the feeling that bubbled up in his gut.  “That doesn’t mean you have to abandon your own hopes.  Aren’t they just as important as everyone else’s?”

Allura turned to him then with a sharp sapphire gaze, looking as regal and solemn as the day she accepted the crown.  “My point is, that while it’s okay to hope, sometimes there are more important things to focus our energies on.  Chasing fairytales is fine when you’re young, but one day, you’ll have to grow up and let them all go.  We don’t get the freedoms we want in life due to our status as royalty.  I just don’t want you to get hurt or lose faith when your dreams aren’t met the way you’d like them to be.”

Pushing off the railing, he nodded curtly, slipping his gaze down to his feet.  “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.  If you’ll excuse me.”

“Alright.  Have a good rest, brother.”

The walk back up to his room felt heavier than usual, falling face first onto his mattress with a sullen sigh.  Mayhap his sister was right once again.  There wasn’t a time he could think of where she hadn’t at least touched on the truth of the matter.  Maybe it was finally the time for him to grow up and face facts.  Be the person everyone expected him to become.

Lance had always been the less serious of the two children born to King Alfor and Queen Celeste.  That trait only seemed to worsen after the tragic accident that stole their parent’s lives away seven years prior.

While Allura was forced to take over the crown and all the heavy responsibilities that came with it at the gentle age of seventeen, he was busy running off getting into trouble wherever he could manage it, pranking the numerous servants or sneaking away from the castle to peruse the nearby town.  By the time he’d turned sixteen, the legal age to be married off, Lance had already stolen the hearts of far too many maidens in most corners of the kingdom, while his sister had given up the hope he’d be an asset in her attempt to fully unify the land.

Now, at the age of twenty, he’d done little more than spend his free time away from the castle attempting to find something that left him truly satisfied.  Nothing had yet, of course, save for the undeniable freedom he felt whenever he took his ship out on the open waters.  Everything else paled in comparison, leaving him melancholy and drained.

Rolling onto his back, Lance stared up at the blue silk canopy above his bed, so much like the clear summer sky, it made his heart clench painfully.  “Maybe I should just give up fighting against my fate,” he mumbled sullenly.  “It’s not like I could ever truly have what I want most in life.”

The last thing he expected to hear was a response.

“Oh, but you can, little Prince,” an unfamiliar voice called out to him from somewhere close by.  It was both low-pitched and strangely high, like two separate sounds layered over one another in an eerie echo.  If he had to guess, he’d say it was female, though it did little by way of making it less disturbing. 

Sitting bolt upright, his eyes swept warily across the contents of his room.  The door was closed to his left, the balcony to his right.  Nothing was amiss, everything in the same spot in which he’d left it, and certainly no strange woman to eavesdrop on his private thoughts.

A displeased look spasmed across his face.  “Great, I’m so distraught that I’m hearing creepy voices responding to my complaints.  Maybe I should have listened to Coran and avoided that second slice of cheesecake at dinner."

“The boy thinks he’s going crazy, Kova,” a different voice spoke in an amused tone, this one deeper and gravely and distinctly masculine.  “Perhaps we should just go and leave him to suffer in peace.”

“A pity, Nuka.  Our lady will be most displeased when we tell her this,” the female voice replied.

Following the sound down to his feet, Lance nearly scrambled off the bed in surprise. 

Two black weasels stood side by side, each with a blue and yellow eye on the exact opposite sides of one another.  A shock of orange streaked down both their heads like a mane, the fur on their tails of the same strange hue.  They titled their heads toward one another in unison, offering him the animal equivalent of a toothy grin.

“Well, that’s completely unnerving,” he mumbled, eyeing the rodents with an air of disgust.  “Why are you here?  How did you get into my room, anyhow?”

The weasel with the feminine voice he assumed was named Kova spoke first.  “My lady has seen the sad Prince out on the shoreline, looking for the merman with the red fin.”

“She sent us to bring you to her, so she can grant your wishes,” the one called Nuka finished.

Lance’s mouth pressed into a thin line, brow furrowing as he regarded them with eyes narrowed into suspicious slits.  “Sorry, but it’s not really my thing to follow strange talking animals outside of the castle.”

The two weasels shared a look before they snickered quietly.

“The prince is cautious, Kova.”

“A smart prince, indeed, Nuka.”

“Our lady was right to choose him.”

“Who is this lady you keep mentioning,” Lance snapped, unable to keep the irritation out of his tone.  The odd way they spoke gave him the chills, and it wasn’t only because they were talking rodents.  It was undoubtedly a factor, but there was something more amiss that he couldn't quite shake.  “And how in the quiznack is she going to help me with my problems?”

“Haggar is a benevolent witch,” Kova replied.

Nuka nodded in agreement.  “She helps those in dire need.”

“Sounds entirely fishy,” Lance decided.  “Where’s the catch?”

“You’ll have to ask our lady if you wish to know more,” Kova said as she turned around and began slinking her way toward the door.

The other weasel smiled up at him once more, sinister with his long and glistening fangs.  “We’ll be waiting quietly outside the palace gates.  If the prince does not join us by nightfall, we’ll never bother him again.”

The two weasels left then, slipping through the crack beneath the door with terrifying ease.

Lance watched after they’d gone for but a moment before falling back onto the mattress with a soft thud.  “Probably for the best that I just move on.  I’m too old to believe anything a talking rat has to say.  And really, what could a witch do to help me out, anyhow?  I don’t even know what it is that I want.”

* * *

 

Lance raced out through the palace gates as quickly as his legs could muster, stopping just outside the glittering silver walls to catch his breath.  The sun had already sunk behind the mountains to the west, the sky a deep and magnificent blue.  Waves roared softly in the distance, the scent of algae and salt pungent on his tongue.

Panting hard, he scanned the ground for a pair of creepy weasels who might be hiding in plain sight.  “I came,” he called out between huffs, rubbing at his chest to ease the burning ache within.  “I’ll at least hear whatever it is she has to say before I make my judgment.”

A bush near his feet rustled and two little heads popped out, startling him with a jolt once more.  They shared another long look, and he wondered briefly if the two were somehow able to communicate telepathically.  As if they weren’t creepy enough from the start.

“Come with us, your highness,” Kova purred in her eerie echoing speech, hopping from the foliage with ease.

“Our lady will be most pleased,” Nuka agreed and followed suit, trotting along beside his companion like the yin to her yang.

The two led him down the familiar path to the beach, a place he’d visited so often that week he could now probably walk the trail blindfolded.  An icy ocean breeze blew off the green waves cresting the shoreline, sinking its way through the thin fabric of his lounge clothes to dance across his skin.  A shiver ran down his spine in tandem, gooseflesh rippling across the exposed flesh of his arms and legs.

It was still early in the year, the spring sun not yet enough to heat the chill left over from the harsh winter the kingdom had seen.  Despite the cold, the waves had a strange way of beckoning with their silky curls and frothy white-foamed spray, lulling unsuspecting people in with their seemingly innocent appearance.  A fool could get lost in their alluring dance and find themselves stepping into dangerous territories.

Lance knew better.  Those waters were still frigid and unforgiving.  He’d felt as much just recently as they immobilized his limbs in mere seconds and nearly claimed his life.  Desperate as he was to heed the invitation and dive in, he kept his distance.  Begrudging though it might have been.

Craggily cliffs cut across the powdered sand down to his left as they reached the edge of the cove, spanning the coast until they kissed the eager waters some yards away.  Green barraged against the tawny rock almost desperately where the two met, warning against all who tried to venture there. 

It was just at the furthest edge of those golden sandy beaches, hidden from sight by pillars of the same colored stone jutting from the sea like thirty-foot rods, that the two rodents revealed to him the small cave.  Even from the side of the stone, there was no indication of the little cavern within, and he had to wonder what kind of person made their home in such an ominous place.

“Our lady is just inside,” Kova promised, barely audible above the waves' deafening roar.

Nuka ginned up at him with a flash of yellow and blue, the yellow eye appearing to nearly glow in the sun’s waning light.  “She has seen our arrival and is most pleased the prince decided to visit.”

“Come.  Come inside and meet Haggar, little Prince.  Do not be shy.”

Cold air seeped from the mouth like an icy breath, the inside so black it was terrifying.  Water had eroded away the stone until it was nearly smooth as glass, the tan and orange sheets marbled throughout with streaks of lifeless grey.  Everything in him said to turn and go back, screamed it inside his mind until it left him nearly shaking. 

With a clenching of his fists, Lance stepped into the cave.

The moment he slipped himself fully into the inky darkness, heavy and slick and slimy on his skin, warmth and light flooded the room blindingly.  Instinctually, his hands flew up to shield his face, retinas on fire from the sudden change.  When the burn faded, the sensations dulled, he removed his fingers slowly and gaped openly at what he saw.   

Torches hung from sconces driven into the side of the glimmering rock, illuminating the small pathway he found himself in almost as brightly as the morning sun.  Shadows still danced in the sharp crevices untouched by the sea, but it was nowhere near as harrowing as it was from the entrance.  Glancing behind himself, the world beyond was still thankfully visible, green turning to shimmering gold here and there in the last dying gasp of the evening's light.

“It is an illusion,” Nuka informed him solemnly, guessing at his wonder at the clear change in scenery and sensation from only seconds before.  “To keep dangers away.  Haggar is cautious, like the prince.”

“Yes, our lady is most powerful,” Kova agreed.  “She must ensure her own safety from those who would do her harm.”

“So, the dark and creepy vibe I was getting was just… a spell,” he asked, brow creasing in thought. 

Lance had heard many stories over the course of his life of arcane magic as old as the gods, but it had been lost to the world for countless generations.  Not a person alive had seen it used, the last of the Druids who knew the art having died long before the land was finally tamed.  The fact that somehow, someone had discovered the secrets and used them for any purpose didn’t bode well for him.  That didn’t stop him from wanting to know more.

“Come,” they called out in unison, “meet our lady and all shall be revealed.”

Lance allowed his curiosity to cloud his better judgment, following the weasels down the orange-lit path with echoing footsteps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are weasels rodents? No. Does Lance know that? Probably not. 
> 
> This chapter was going to be longer, but then I saw how long it had been since the first post and I decided to hurry up and get something out for those who have been patiently waiting.  
> I can't say updates will ever be speedy, I have a lot of WIPs updating under various pseuds, but I do promise everything I start will be finished eventually. In time.  
> Any mistakes are because I'm tired right now. It's late. Yell at me and I'll fix them promptly.
> 
> If you ever see me slacking and want me to jump it up higher on my list of to be updated, give me a little shove and I am more than happy to oblige. ^^
> 
> Hit me up and follow all my writing on Tumblr - Cherrywrites626  
> Also, I post sneaks of things I'm working on and you might enjoy that.


	3. A Beautiful Creature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sorry sorry for the delay. Sorry for not posting this sooner.

Firelight flickered lazily as the three of them made their way deeper into the tunnel, grazing fingers over the rough rock walls on either side as he went.  In some places, they were as smooth as polished metal.  In others, the inconsistencies and pocks in the stone bit into his fingertips to the point of nearly ripping the calloused skin.  Shadows swayed and danced along the floor with each step, reaching high up the marbled stone until they seeped into the inky darkness above his head and finally disappeared.

Neither weasel said anything more for some time, though from the way they shared the occasional pregnant look with one another, he could tell they were communicating all the same.  It was irritating, rude even, in his opinion, but he held back the urge to admonish them for it.  The sense of relief he felt over the newfound silence was nearly as strong as his irritation, and he had to wonder if the rodents could tell just how uncomfortable they made him.  For the most part, it was simply that they creeped him out; the sound of their echoing sonorous voices did little to put his wary mind at ease.

As the seconds trickled on in agonizingly slow increments, each one seeming to double, and then triple in length; the curiosity he had once felt steadily ebbed back into its former uncertainty.  It had only been minutes of walking, at most, but no longer could he smell the salty ocean on the breeze, nor hear the gulls cawing off in the distance.  Despite the seemingly straight line the three had walked, with no twists or turns to speak of, when he glanced over his shoulder to catch another flash of that shimmering sunset, all he found was harrowing blackness.

Snapping back to attention, Lance ignored the growing seeds of dread once more.  _It’s probably just the spell,_ he thought wearily, training his eyes onto the two small bodies that swayed together in perfect time as they led the way forward a stone’s throw ahead. 

Their synchronicity of movement was like a strangely hypnotic dance, two feet gliding along as smoothly as water flowed; so much so that he had to wonder if they weren’t actually a single entity all along.  Their eyes, their odd speech patterns, even the way they turned and smiled and walked together was like a mirror image of itself.  It would explain away their weird sentence-finishing-habit and telepathy, at any rate.

Just as he was beginning to relax a bit, lulled into a state of catatonic surrender by the warmth and unchanging brightness, the world around him shifted.  It didn’t take much to notice the way the ground began to descend at an incline, or how the air became supercharged with ozone the way it felt before a thunderstorm.  The once pleasantly tepid dryness morphed into something new and wet, ghosting fingers unnervingly across his bare arms and face.  Shivers rippled down his spine, gooseflesh erupting along his skin in waves.  Even the taste of it was becoming unpleasant; the scent of salt and limestone clinging to the air like a thick, damp cloud the further they went down, filling up his mouth to the point of nearly gagging on it.

Quietly at first, growing steadily more noticeable as time elapsed, the sounds of water dripping began to beat out an isochronal rhythm someplace off in the distance; though how far and how much, it was hard to discern.  Regardless, it was eerie.  The constant pitter patter as it fell from the walls and ceiling was reminiscent of an enormous convulsing heart locked deep in the cavern's walls; welcoming his coming, or perhaps luring him closer to his doom.

The cave itself was like a mythical creature; its hot, humid breath blowing from unseen lungs, up the torch ensconced pathways of its throat to fan over his face.  The rush of something moving in the ground beneath his feet felt exactly they way he imagined blood to flow through veins, doing little to stave off the image of waltzing cheerily into a beast’s hungry stomach.  All of these things, combined with the loud crash of his own heartbeat hammering away rapidly in his ears, were the perfect concoction to find him thoroughly on edge, small tendrils of anxiety already worming their way through his intestinal tract.

“How much further,” Lance finally blurted, wondering just how deeply into the earth they’d managed to go.  He didn’t miss the underlying note of desperation in his voice, the plea to have _something_ distract him from the panic, even if it was a short conversation with demon rats.

Already it had felt like hours of walking the same tired path; though in truth, had probably been less than one.  Either way, the passage was becoming narrower by the second, and Lance hated tight spaces and the feeling of confinement more than anything else.  There were already enough cages in his life, he didn’t need actual walls pushing in on him from all sides, as well.

“The Prince is most impatient, Nuka.  He wants to see Haggar very badly.”

“Our lady will surely be pleased, Kova.”

“That in no way answered my question,” he muttered at the two of them petulantly, hearing the soft echoing sound of his voice bounce its way down the tunnel from both ends.

Kova turned and smiled back at him, the sparkle of flames dancing off her sharp fangs even more sinister in the orange-hued light.  The lone yellow eye on the left side of her face seemed to glow faintly from within, the same strange way Nuka’s right one had briefly before the three of them entered the cave.  “Soon, little prince.  We are almost there.”

“Can you try putting that into distance, maybe?  Another kilometer or three or unto the ends of infin...” Lance’s voice trailed off as the tunnel abruptly ended, widening outward for hundreds of feet on either side of them.

The large circular chamber he found himself at the entrance of was almost the exact circumference of the palace's throne room, and nearly just as sparse and lacking in décor.  Warm, damp air still breathed over his skin like a gentle sigh, but the intensity of it was welcoming now, the returned scent of ocean water even more intoxicating and thick despite their depth into the earth. 

High up above their heads glittering stalactites glowed in the softest hues of ice; blue and white swirling together as it illuminated the cavern's ceiling like hundreds of tiny stars.  In the far side of the room opposite the tunnel, an empty chair sat standalone, crafted from the same ruddy marbled stone as the rest of the cave.  Aside from that, the room was completely vacant.

Torches still hung from the walls every few feet around the entire length of the perimeter, flames dancing in time with one another as if a spell had been cast over them.  Shadows swayed in tandem like the churning of waves, calming and dazzling like the sea at dawn. 

It wasn’t quite what he’d expected when he agreed to follow a pair of talking rats into an ominous cave to meet some witch, though what he had, he couldn’t begin to say.  A cauldron or a few potion bottles scattered here and there. Candles dripping wax onto the floor, at the very least.  Nothing at all like this sorrowful emptiness standing stark and lonely before him.

“Haggar will come for the Prince soon,” Nuka promised, drawing his attention away from the vacant space and back down to the little weasels now turned around to face him.  If it were darker and he didn’t know any better, he’d swear their still glowing yellow eyes sat at just the right distance apart to be that of some terrifying creature watching him from the shadows with sinister intent.

Swallowing down the urge to turn and run sprinting from the room, Lance quirked his lips slightly in response.  “Alright.  I’ll just stand here, then.  Close to the exit.”

Kova made a noise that was probably a laugh, though to him, it was more like a strangled wheeze or whimper of pain.  “There is no need to be frightened, little Prince.”

“Our lady is a benevolent witch who loves helping those in need,” the other finished.  “She will give to you all that you desire and more.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he mumbled under his breath, blue eyes scanning the cavern critically for further signs of life.  From what he could tell, there were no other exits to be seen.  No hiding spots in the smoothly polished walls, no hidden chambers lurking in the shadows just out of sight.  The cave was at a dead end, which truly shouldn’t have been as disappointing as it felt to him right then.

Without a word of warning, the weasels suddenly bounded off across the floor, clambering up the sides of the rocky throne and perching themselves at the top of two small posts on each end of its high back.  Yellow and blue gazed his way with glimmering anticipation, dancing wickedly in the orange-hued light. 

The soft sound of leisured footsteps soon followed, echoing their way throughout the room and drawing his focus away from the smiling rodents, over to the far wall where a second tunnel had opened itself in the rock, just barely visible from where he stood.  Before Lance knew what had come over him, his legs were leading him toward that very direction; drawn in by curiosity or something more, he couldn’t say. 

An enchanting young woman emerged like magic from the depth of marbled stone, dressed head to toe in white silk robes that sparkled like powdered diamonds in the flickering torchlight.  It was all he could do not to gasp and recoil away from her in surprise, his feet stopping dead in their tracks, both awestruck and trembling in the face of such unabashed beauty.

Long snowy hair tumbled down her shoulders clear to her narrow midsection, pulled away from the gentle curves of her stunning face by pale grey branches dusted with frost.  Her skin was like lavender colored gems it shone so brightly, the whole orb of her almond shaped eyes glowing a yellow so radiant it was like looking directly into the sun. 

Despite the strange quality of her otherworldly appearance, the mystifying enchantress exhibited an air of regal superiority equaled only by his sister.  Shoulders back, head high, the witch glided into the room with imposing elegance and a swish of crushed velvet and shimmering silk. 

“My dear boy,” she cooed to him softly, voice gritted and raspy like broken glass slowly being crushed beneath someone’s booted foot.  It was perhaps the exact opposite of what he’d expect to come out of such a delicate looking woman, though if anything, only added to his intrigue.  “How good it is of you to come to me for help.”

“Haggar, I presume,” Lance replied as coolly as he could muster, watching as the witch took her seat on the throne and smiled back at him fondly.  Crossing his arms over his chest, he cocked his hip and arched a single brow.  “And I haven’t decided yet if I’ll be accepting your help.  I don’t even know what you’re offering me, or why.”

Haggar chuckled, low and deep, causing a tingling shiver to shoot down his spine.  “You are indeed a smart child to be cautious of me, dear Prince.  That caution will keep you safe.”  She paused to smile faintly once more, folding her long fingers together and resting them on her lap.  “But I assure you, helping people is what I do.  All that I live for.  There is nothing I have left in this sad existence that brings me such joy as seeing the smile on another’s face and knowing that I am the one who was able to help put it there.”

“Then your benevolence knows no bounds, my lady,” Lance purred back, smiling dazzlingly at the seated woman like it was he who tried to earn her favor, instead.  Charm was one of the many natural gifts he possessed, so effortless to him it was as easy as breathing.  “But why not offer your help freely to the kingdom, if everything is as you say?  Why hide away, closed off from the world, only offering this chance to me?”

A sad expression suddenly spasmed on the witch’s beautiful face, and it was all he could do not to rush to her side and apologize profusely for his help in putting it there. 

“It wasn’t always like this, you know,” she murmured, so quiet and broken it pierced him straight through the heart.  A wry smile curled her full lips, yellow orbs narrowing slightly in thought.  “I used to be sought out freely to help those most in need.  And I happily did, any and all who I deemed worthy of my gift.  But men are cruel and wicked creatures; they seek power and glory for their own vile and twisted means.  Sometimes it is not so easy to see the darkness in another’s soul, dear boy.  Sometimes, people hide their ugly intentions behind masks of shimmering gold.”

“You helped someone you shouldn’t have, and it turned into something terrible,” he guessed aloud, relaxing the tightness of his posture the tiniest bit.  “And I’m going to go out on a limb and say it was nothing short of catastrophic, if it troubles you so.”

The woman nodded solemnly, clutching a hand to her supple breast.  “War broke out in the kingdom, horrible and bloody.  It claimed many lives, the towns burned to the ground, and the people executed if they didn’t instantly bend the knee.  The wicked man at the center of it all had tricked me into helping him unify the country, had imprisoned me in a cell in the castle and used my powers for unparalleled evil.  Upon his untimely death, killed by those he thought were friends, I made my escape and hid in a new land, one where no person knew my name or face.  For twenty long years now, I’ve kept deep inside the shadows here, spending my days lamenting my part in such a cruel and twisted fate.”

Lance pursed his lips, brow furrowing lightly in thought.  After a beat, he voiced his concern.  “Why have you suddenly chosen me, of all people, to help,” he asked quietly, taking a hesitant step forward.  “Why now, and why not someone with less?  I am the prince of this kingdom, with most of life’s joys readily at my fingertips.  Surely someone poor and downtrodden deserves more of your kindness than a spoiled brat like myself?”

Haggar smiled once again, face alight with a gentleness that warmed him down to his core.  “I have many eyes in this world, dear child; creatures who have come to me and offered up their assistance.  I saw what you did for those people on your ship, how you were willing to sacrifice your life for the safety of your crew.  It was I who offered the gift of painless sleep for your selfless act, though the merman curiously watching the ordeal was the one who rescued you from death, in the end.  If my humble magic could have reached that distance, I would have done everything in my power to save you.  The world surely would have wept for such a terrible loss had you succumbed to the icy, unforgiving sea.”

Words suddenly whispered their way softly through his mind once again, the same ones he’d heard back in the frigid waters just before his eyes had slipped shut and he’d accepted his fate.  _Sleep now, my Prince._

At the time, it hadn’t occurred to him that it was someone unfamiliar speaking them.  He’d pushed the words to the back of his thoughts when more important matters arose to take precedence.  Now, gazing over into pools of infinite yellow, he was finally able to put a face to that strange, feminine voice.

“That doesn’t tell me why you’re offering such a gift now,” Lance conceded after a moment of deliberation.  “You’ve already given me something for what you deemed to be a selfless act.  Why would you continue wanting to do something for a stranger, while seeking nothing in return?”  Smirking, he tilted his head to one side.  “Unless, there is something more you hope to gain from helping?”

“Nothing of the sort,” she replied with an airy laugh, sounding more like a lion’s purr than a human’s.  Waving her hand dismissively through the air, she took on a decidedly more serious expression.  “I simply feel bad for not doing more when I had the chance.  There are few who stand idly by and allow tragedies to befall others, and not curse themselves for their inaction, later.  When I saw you being rescued I felt relief, and then tremendous shame for not doing anything more to assist you.  Now that I’ve seen your plight and know of a way to help, I must insist that you allow me to try.  Call it an act of kindness, if you will; but for me, it is peace of mind.”

Lance hummed in contemplation, strumming fingers gently on his bicep.  The sincerity flowing off the witch was palpable, yellow eyes shining up at him with tenderness and benevolence.  That didn’t mean he trusted her intentions.  He knew far too much of wolves in sheep’s clothing to think that most wouldn't have some ulterior motive governing their actions.  After all, he was the second in line to rule a wealthy kingdom.

Unfurling his arms from their place at his chest, he folded them neatly behind his back.  “So, you want nothing in exchange?  No money or glory.  It’s all just a charity you’re willing to give me, and you gain… peace of mind and the satisfaction of doing something good?”

The woman rose from her seat then, chuckling quietly as she closed the distance between them with slow and measured steps.  “I can see you will never be fully satisfied with my answer.  I assure you, it is the full truth.  I need nothing, and I will take nothing from you for my assistance.  Unless, of course, the assistance you want requires generous amounts of my magic.  Only then will you have to give something to receive.”

The distrust he’d never quite managed to squash roared inside of him then as a raging bonfire, shying away from the witch like she had spat venom his way instead of words.  “I knew it was too good to be true,” Lance seethed, blue eyes narrowing themselves into little slits.  “Nothing in this world comes without some price.  I’m done with this nonsense and your games.  Speak your true intent now or I’m leaving.”

Haggar stopped in her tracks, raising both hands up in a placating gesture.  A pained smile curled her mouth, the long tendrils of snowy hair framing her delicate shoulders swaying as she shook her head sadly.  “I do not wish you any harm, young Prince.  If I wanted that, I would have had ample time to do something already.”

“How can I be certain,” he shot back, raising his chin up defiantly.  “First you say you require nothing from me, then you contradict yourself with the very next sentence.  If you were forthright from the beginning, you would have just told me what you wanted so I could decide if it is worth my time or a huge waste.  I don’t approve of dancing around the matter at hand, and you won’t persuade me by trying to do so.”

“What is it that you most desire?”

The question caught him off guard, and he had to blink a few times in surprise before the response could find its way cautiously from his lips.  “What do you mean by desire?”

Haggar turned on her heel without further explanation, crossing the room in graceful, flowing strides.  “Follow me, my dear boy,” her voice reverberated around him, both through his ears and dancing playfully across the recesses of his mind.  “I will show to you the person you are longing to see.  It will cost nothing of you, I do this freely.”

As she disappeared once more into the hidden tunnel in the rock, Lance hesitated where he stood, unsure whether or not he could detect the implications of a trap, or if he’d even care, despite that.  Curiosity said throw caution to the wind, and as it stood, he was already in too deep to back out now without knowing what it was the witch wanted to offer. 

After all that time spent searching in vain, a small glimpse of the merman was far too tempting a thing for him to pass up.  Sparing a disapproving look at the weasels grinning at him eerily, he followed the woman further into the cave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for your patience and support while I failed miserably to upload this (already written!) chapter. I have had a terrible case of the kind of writer's block that leaves you despising every word that gets typed up, and until recently, haven't been able to even look at a word document without getting hives.  
> I'm terribly sorry for that, and I promise zero progress in the future.  
> The only thing I can say is that I aim to finish everything I start at some point, be it months or years or decades down the road. Short of my untimely death, knock on wood, I promise to do that, at the very least.  
> The only reason I was even able to upload now is probably due to the completed nature of this chapter. I do have more typed up, another 2k or so that was supposed to be added here, but I wanted that cushion to motivate me later on.  
> Bear with me, lovely readers, and never hesitate to badger me into writing. It is the continued comments on my works that even spark that desire to finish things, in the first place.  
> xoxo
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr - cherrywrites626


	4. The Deal of a Lifetime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing got out of control.

Unlike the previous trek, it took but a moment before he found himself standing at the entrance of a strange new room.  It was cozy, if you could call it that; less than a tenth the size of the first and littered with the sort of trinkets he had expected to see from the start.  Alcoves were cut into the smooth, pale stone in nearly every space from floor to ceiling; bottles and gems glowing softly from their depths with multi-hued lights. 

Numerous oaken bookcases sat themselves haphazardly about the place, their shelves stuffed to bursting with dusty tomes whose leather-bound spines were scribbled upon in a strange archaic scrawl.  Clusters of candles in variable sizes flickered up on their high tops, dribbling waxy trails down the ruddy wood until it puddled in grey abstract shapes on the cavern floor.

In the very center of the room, a large pool of water stood no higher than his knee; aquamarine in color, smelling faintly of jasmine and hyacinth and salt.  A gentle current lapped at the sides of the stone encasing it, rippling like calm waves against the tawny rock.  How it was possible without a breeze, he couldn’t guess, but it reminded him of a tropical ocean entrapped by a circle of tiny cliffs.

Stopping at the pool’s edge, the woman bent at the waist, pressing the tip of her index finger into the calm waters and whispering an incantation in a melodious sounding tongue.  In an instant, they changed, burning brighter than the noontime sun on a cloudless summer day.  Streaks of ink swirled through the ripples left by her disturbance, fanning out through the pool until they slowly began to resemble a face.

Lance’s breath hitched in surprise, hand shaking as it reached out to grab at the vision within.

“This pool is what I use to see with my many eyes,” the witch murmured solemnly, gauging his reaction with a clinical look.  “It shows things as they are this very instant, wherever they are occurring, as far and deep as my helpers will go.  Your merman Keith is in his home right now, as he has been for the past week since he saved your life.”

“His name is Keith,” a strange voice croaked in response, and it shocked him to realize who it belonged to.  Licking his lips tentatively, he pushed other words past the tightness forming in his chest.  “You… you’re sure?”

Haggar smiled sadly, giving a short nod in agreeance.  “I have been watching the two of you since your rescue.  You as you gaze out at the sea waiting for him to return, and him down in the murky depths, unaware of your pining and desire to speak again.  I fear it is in the merperson nature to forget the troubles of the humans they enrapture with their beauty and mysteriousness, often driving men mad with longing and leading them out onto the sea to an early grave.  It is part of where the siren legends came from, though the truth is that their demise is typically of a human’s own doing.”

“So, what you’re saying is that we… Keith and I… will never meet again?”  A small sigh escaped him at the thought, gazing down wistfully at the creature swimming through the murky grey waters with affluent grace.  “I guess there isn’t much I can do about it, if that’s the way of it.”

The woman pursed her lips, deliberating for a moment.  “If you wait for him to come to you, I fear the chances are slim to none,” she finally agreed, and his heart sank a little further into his stomach.  “You may happen upon him or another at some point should you continue to scour the seas in search, but it is quite uncommon to see a merperson unless they wish for it.  You are free to visit this place, if you’d like, and I would show you him as many times as would sate your desire.  It would be my pleasure to assist you.”

Another sigh spilled past his lips, head shaking a resilient no.  Glancing up into her warm yellow eyes, he caught the piteous look she sent his way.  “As nice as your offer is, I fear it isn’t the same thing.  I just wanted to see him once more, to talk to him.  If that’s not something he would do, I should probably move on with my life.  Do as my sister requests of me.”

“If that’s your choice I won’t stop you,” she began, waving a flippant hand over the image.  It disappeared in a flash, leaving the water as blue and depressingly empty as it was before.  “However, it is within my power to bring him to you, should you request it.”  The witch smiled wryly.  “I can’t say that he would willingly stay put, but I do have the ability to summon him from the depths.”

Lance shook his head once more, ignoring the swell of temptation that spiked in his gut.  “I wouldn’t want to force him.  It wouldn’t be right.  If I could somehow get down to him, that would be different, but dragging him off without his consent just doesn’t sit well with me.”

Haggar chuckled at that, the sound akin to a large cat purring happily.  With a swish of her robes she turned away, gliding over to one of the little alcoves and grabbing up the glowing bottle of pink liquid housed within.  Shimmering white glitter swirled like crushed diamonds in its waters as she shook the thing softly.  “Well now, that is something I could also do, if you’d prefer.  It’s harder magic to control, older than the simpler spells I know.  But I can grant that wish for you.”

“You could… send me to him,” Lance asked with an air of trepidation, eyeing the bottle like it might contain something foul and poisonous.  His eyebrow quirked incredulously, the next words he spoke sounding flat and monotone.  “And then what, I drown because it’s hundreds of feet lower than any mortal man could swim?  I’ll pass.”

“Oh, heavens no,” the witch replied with a gasp, clutching at her breast like the very idea was ghastly.  “You misunderstand me, dear, sweet prince.  What I offer is not something so simple as teleportation.”  A smile curled her lips then, yellow eyes dancing with mischevious delight.  “That would be far, far easier; though I doubt it would satisfy you much even if I could assure your complete safety.  I’m offering up the chance to become a merperson, for a short time.”

The very idea was so absurd that a sharp bark of laughter erupted from his throat before he could think to stop it.  “As much as I want to believe it possible, that’s positively absurd.  Me?  Change into a fish person?”  He chuckled once again, shaking the odd effigy of his mer-self from his mind.  “How would that even begin to work?”

“I admit that it _would_ require a sacrifice in order to take hold,” she replied with a solemn expression, setting the potion down on the lip of the pool and folding her hands together as if in prayer.  “An exchange of both the mind and a close material possession to ensure your transformation would stick.  Strong magic such as this always comes with a hefty price.  But if you go through with it, you’ll be able to remain in that form for seven full days.  You could do anything with your time, go anywhere you’d like.  And should you grow tired of your fin, just leave the sea and you’ll change back, the things you gave up as payment returned to you at once.”

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your offer,” Lance mumbled, feeling more than a little perturbed by the unrealistic request.  He knew from the start it was most likely going to end up disappointing him, anyway.  Hearing any more nonsense was just going to make it worse.  “I can’t begin to think of anything my mind could offer up to you that would seem like a sufficient form of payment.  I am no more or less intelligent than any other well educated person in the kingdom, and it’s not as if I know any secrets that-“

“You misunderstand,” Haggar cut him off with a laugh, hiding her grin behind thin lavender fingers.  The look of bemused affection she wore caused his cheeks to flush heavily in embarrassment.  “A sacrifice of the mind is simply a trade-off, like your sight for your fin; or your voice, or your charm.  An item that dwells deep within you.  Something that you must freely give up to accept the gift.  I wouldn’t be able to choose for you, but know that it must be something you value dearly, or I’m afraid the spell will fail to take hold.”

“And the close material possession,” he asked with a frown, crossing arms over his chest in a pensive manner.  “I don’t exactly have many things I value so much they’d be worth anything.  Material objects aren’t exactly the thing I yearn to have.”

Haggar pursed her lips in thought, yellow orbs scanning over his person critically.  “Is there nothing you have that is of importance to you at all?  No pin or brooch you’ve had since childhood that you keep safe?  No trinket you’ve held on to, for whatever reason?”

“Like I said, I’m not a material person to begin with.  I don’t collect anything, and the only thing I’ve treasured even a little is now sunk at the bottom of the sea.”

The witch clicked her tongue in disappointment, shaking her head sadly.  “I’m afraid that there is nothing I can do for you, then.  Even a simple watch handed down through your bloodline would have sufficed, if you have thought of it in such a manner that it remained close to you always.”

Lance opened his mouth to once again deny the existence of such an item, until his hand flew up to grip the thin fabric at his throat.  Hanging there on a thin silver chain, almost forgotten for how long he had worn the thing, was the heirloom ring his father had given to him on his twelfth birthday.  Untucking it from the place it rested just over his heart, he gazed down at the strange blue metal with its glittering red gem embedded at the very center.  Candlelight flickered across the surface of its smooth curves, casting shimmering cyan-hued prisms onto his fingers.

Licking his lips nervously, he swallowed down the surge of emotions clogging up his throat.  “My… father gave this to me the year that he died.  It’s the only piece of jewelry I own.  I never take it off, not even briefly.”

“That would indeed work, then,” Haggar promised with a nod, “if you wish to offer it up as a payment.”

Blue eyes skipped their way back and forth over the woman’s solemn gaze, searching for any hint of malice or deceit.  Her expression was calm, her smile soft and motherly.  For a fleeting second, she reminded him once more of Allura, and it helped to ease some of the consternation he felt in his soul.

“And you swear I’ll get it back,” Lance asked slowly, each word spoken like his tongue weighed thrice what it should.  “I couldn’t possibly give it up knowing it would disappear forever.  I… it…,” he took a deep breath, releasing it back out as a stuttering sigh, “it’s all that I have left.”

“Of course.  The moment you wish to leave, it will appear right back on the chain.  You have my word of it.”

Both of his hands shook slightly as he raised them to unhook the clasp from around his neck, sliding the ring onto the woman’s open and waiting palm.  Anxiety twisted fingers through his stomach, but he ignored the unease washing over him, knowing how foolish it was to care so dearly for a silly hunk of useless metal and stone. 

“How am I supposed to keep track of time in the water,” Lance asked with a tremor in his voice, trying his best to distract his thoughts.  “What if I forget how long it’s been and turn back while swimming in the depths and drown?”

“I’m giving you this in its place,” she replied, reaching into the front of her robes and pulling out a small blue pendant with a softly glowing stone at its center.  It looked to be filled with a liquid of some sort as she handed it over, sloshing against the confines of the gem encasing it and creating tiny bubbles around the outer rim.  “It will count the time down for you, so you’ll know to be safely back by land before the seventh night ends.  The potion will keep the gem glowing brightly until the night of the sixth day, whereupon it will diminish steadily and then go out.  Do not be alarmed should you fail to notice it happening, it will also begin vibrating periodically to warn you of the passages of time.”

There was a pause in conversation as Lance appraised the pendant before he slipped it onto the chain and reattached it around his neck.  “All right, so how do we go about this process?”

“Have you thought of the other sacrifice you’d like to give?”

Running a hand through his hair, he blew a breath through his teeth before finally offering up a shrug.  “I mean, I guess I’ll give you my… charm?  Not that I understand what that means, exactly, but my sight is needed.  I’m more than certain my voice would be, as well.”

Haggar chuckled softly, quirking an incredulous brow.  “My boy, do you not understand the kind of power you hold over others?”

“I must not, if you think it so amusing,” Lance responded with a pout.

Humming once more in amusement, she gave a wry grin.  “You have a way with words, and smile that makes maidens fall at your feet.  That is your charm; so without it, you will have to find another way to impress those around you.”

“You mean I’m going to be super awkward the whole time,” he all but squawked, slamming his hands together in the shape of a capital ‘T’.  The very idea was too horrifying to even begin to imagine the possibilities.  “That’s nearly as bad as not being able to speak!  They do say the majority of interactions are nonverbal… maybe I’ll give you my voice, instead.”

The witch tutted him with a click of the tongue and waggle of the finger.  “Now, now.  It is a sacrifice for a reason.  The fact that you are bargaining to change it means it is as dear to you as it need be.”  A smile curled her lips, looking far too pleased with his panic to be considered solely benevolent.  “I promise that you will be fine without your charm.  Your flirtatious nature alone is sure to turn heads, despite that.  And I’m sure it will be of little consequence when dealing with merfolk, anyhow.  They tend to be immune to the charms of men.”

Lance sighed so hard his shoulders slumped in tandem, arms falling uselessly to his sides as he succumbed himself to his abysmal fate.  “Fine.  It’s not as if I’m even certain I’ll need charm, to begin with.  I doubt I’ll find anyone worth the effort.”

“And what of your poor merman?  To think, your interests are so fickle that you already imagine a potential rival for your affections.”

 “It isn’t like that,” he yelped, shaking his head so vigorously it made him dizzy.  “I don’t want to charm him, or anything of that nature.  I just… I don’t know why but the idea of never seeing him again… it doesn’t… sit well with me.”

“Perhaps it truly was love at first sight,” she teased, earning a sour expression from him in response.

“I doubt that,” he sniffed.  “I simply want to know more about these merfolk, is all.”

“If we have a deal, then shake my hand,” Haggar purred melodically, offering out her palm to him, her long lavender fingers gently curled.  “It will be our contract, the way the magic will bind to you.”

Lance didn’t hesitate this time as he took the offering, shuddering when her burning skin clamped over his own like a vice.  Laughter echoed hauntingly through his mind, bouncing around the confines and reverberating deep into his core.  A strange sensation flooded his system, a weakness in his muscles that had him nearly falling over on the spot. 

He might have, too, were it not for the iron grip holding him firmly in place.

The witch popped the stopper on the bottle with her teeth, pouring the contents over his head in a rush of fiery liquid that stung his flesh.  The world spun, his bones feeling as if they were breaking and reforming one by one, at a speed so fast it was hard to deem it inherently painful.  The next thing he knew, everything was white, and he was falling backward into an explosion of icy cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had more to add to this chapter, but then thought it might be nice to keep the cliffhanger more of a cliffhanger this time.  
> I apologize for any wonky inconsistencies in my writing style if they happen, I tend to write and edit and rewrite chapters over and again until I find them satisfactory to my current mood. And that is ever changing when it comes to my writing. ^^;;
> 
> Well, I hope it wasn't boring or anything. Sorry that there isn't any Keef action yet. That will be in the next chapter, at least a small bit. Guaranteed. As well as some of the other people I'm sure everyone would rather see than Haggar.  
> I have more written so expect me to update in a (hopefully) reasonable amount of time. Feel free to pester me if I'm taking too long, as I do need all the motivation I can get. :)
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr whenever - Cherrywrites626


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